Back when I was a kid, **** was pretty okay. It was just me, my two brothers (I'm the oldest, but not by too much), my mom and my dad. My brothers and I would play all day, and then our parents would call us in, and we'd have dinner, and we'd go to bed. Life was good, and it was simple. So, one day, out of the blue, Mom and Dad decide it's just a wonderful idea to kick us out of the house. Something about "learning how to live". ******* pigs. After a huge argument, I packed what I could, and I left with my brothers down a decently sized stretch of dirt road. My youngest brother found a bunch of felled trees, and he made a small burrow of wood and branches to stay the night in, and we said our goodbyes to him. After that, the middle bro and I continue down the road. We walked for hours, and finally, we came to an abandoned farm. I asked him if he was sure he wanted to stay there, as it looked pretty small and torn up, and he said he didn't know, but that we should go our separate ways, soon I stayed the night with him, in a small makeshift house made from hay bales. I woke up before him, left him a note, and I left him. I haven't seen them since. I kept walking down the path, and around noon, I found a shack. I walked in, and looked around. there was no one there. Just a couch, a table, a couple chairs, a pantry, nothing too much. Definitely enough to live with. Here I've lived for a few years. I'm starting to get old and tired. But today was different I've heard rustling in the jimmies - er.. Woods outside of my shack. I don't always look out of my windows, but when I do, I'll sometimes see a black shadow cross my field of vision. And even more recently, I've heard this very strange, but very VERY heavy breathing outside of my door. But whoever it is, my door remains locked. This ************ isn't coming into my house. Not by the hairs of my ******* chin.